


scw 6 - winter

by bonebo



Series: Shimadacest Week '17 [6]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: D/s, Desperation Play, Omorashi, Watersports, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 18:02:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9249455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonebo/pseuds/bonebo
Summary: Sometimes Genji needs a firm hand, to help him succeed.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Omorashi (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/254570) by junk-baby. 



Sometimes Genji needs a firm hand, to help him succeed.

Hanzo has become used to being that hand--it’s a role that he thinks he takes well to, given his many years of practice. And while he doesn’t always enjoy the burden of keeping him in line--often at the expense of his own peace of mind, or relaxation--when it comes to Genji, it’s a small sacrifice to make.

Sometimes, Hanzo can even find a reward in doing so; even if Genji doesn’t agree.

Just another way they differ, Hanzo supposes, allowing himself a smile.

Genji sits stiffly at the desk in his room, with a stack of books before him and Hanzo stretched out on the bed behind him, manga in hand. Genji has one textbook open, a notebook beside that with notes scrawled across the page, but Hanzo knows he’s hardly paying attention.

It would be hard to, considering Genji’s predicament.

“...anija….please.” Genji finally looks up, over his shoulder at Hanzo--puts on his best pleading face, and is met only by Hanzo’s firm indifference when he casually glances up from his novel. He squirms fitfully in his seat, jaw clenched and his shoulders heaving. “I really... _really_ have to go.”

Hanzo hums. “Not yet.” He drops his gaze back down to the manga, turns a page, listens to Genji’s whine. “I told you, you may relieve yourself only when you have finished your homework for tonight.”

“But Ha-chan--”

“And _not_ a second sooner.” Hanzo’s tone is firm, stony. Genji whines again, but redoubles his efforts, burying his nose in the textbook again.

It’s not enough.

 _“Hanzo.”_ Twenty minutes later and Genji has his head thrown back, eyes wide and fixed on the ceiling; Hanzo can’t see his hands, but can see the motions of his arms as he presses down between his thighs. Genji’s voice is a warbling, nervous thing as he chokes out, “Anija...I can’t hold it anymore...I _c-can’t_ …”

Hanzo glances over with a frown; he’s finished his manga by now, instead moved on to playing a game on his phone to entertain himself. He had thought Genji would last longer than this.

“...really?” Hanzo scoffs, shakes his head; but he can’t deny the sharp thrill that races through him at hearing Genji’s admission, at the thought of what he’s going to do. He shifts minutely on Genji’s bed, allowing himself a better vantage point to watch from. “Pathetic.”

Genji hugs himself tightly, his face scrunching up, and the sheer need in his expression is one of the best things Hanzo has ever seen. He watches Genji’s thighs grind against each other, squeeze tight against his groin, hears his whispered little pleas; and he drops his gaze back down to his phone with a put-upon huff.

“Fine.” His voice comes out disinterested; from the corner of his eye, he can see the way Genji straightens, the feverish look on his face when he glances over. Hanzo wonders if Genji thinks he’s going to be allowed to leave his desk--if he’s really that dumb. “I was going to let you go in an hour, but...go ahead. Piss yourself.”

Genji swallows and holds his stare, disbelieving even as color starts to rise to his cheeks. He squirms where he sits and tugs on the collar of his shirt, his voice a tiny, breathy thing as he chokes out, “S-seriously?”

Hanzo’s silence is answer enough. Genji groans at it, buries his face in his hands, feels the warmth of his cheeks beneath his fingers; he squirms again, bites his lip, wars with himself between just letting go, chasing that relief, and battling the shame of wetting himself.

In the end he’s been waiting far too long to really have a choice.

 _“Fuck…”_ He tries to stand, and that’s his undoing--the unclenching of his thighs is enough to let a small jet of piss dribble out, and it’s like opening a dam. Genji thunks back down into the seat with a low groan as he feels it soaking into his boxers, and Hanzo’s voice sounds a million miles away when he commands, “Spread your legs.”

It’s humiliating--but what’s even worse is how quickly he obeys, leaning back with his face in his hands as his thighs fall open wider. _“Holy fuck,”_ Genji whimpers, cradling his face in his hands and trying not to focus on the feeling of hot piss jetting into his pants, soaking into the fabric over the throbbing swell of his balls. The relief is almost palpable--better than any orgasm--and Genji could almost cry with it as he feels the liquid gather in the chair, pool there. Despite the pleasure in finally being able to let go, he’s still burning up with humiliation. This is so--why did he even allow this to happen? He bites his lip to keep the tears at bay.

Behind him, Hanzo watches--reaches down to subtly give his cock a squeeze, adjust it in the tight confines of his own jeans.

“Once you’re finished debasing yourself, get back to studying.”

Genji outright wails at the command, and Hanzo wants to feel sorry for him; but winter finals are right around the corner, and Genji cannot afford to do poorly on them.

Hanzo is sure his brother will see reason soon enough.


End file.
